'About that,' Bear said. 'You might be interested to know Tess Jameson's case has been reopened. As a murder.'
Dolan jerked in a deep breath, but Dean just calmly said, 'Really?'
Tim said, 'So you knew she was killed?'
'Why would I know that?'
'Her brother knows,' Bear said, 'and he holds you responsible and intends to kill you. And he's willing to literally swim through shit to do it.'
'Well, I'm sure that a delusional prison escapee has all the right answers.'
Dolan couldn't help himself and broke in. 'She was killed? How do you know?'
Tim said, 'Tess was left-handed. The entry wound was on the left side of her head. Only problem is, she was a right-handed shooter.'
'Couldn't she have used her other hand? Lots of left-handed people are pretty ambidextrous.'
'I don't know, Dolan,' Bear said. 'Gun to temple. Pretty important moment. I think you'd want your shooting hand.'
'How…? Who do you think did it?' Dolan asked.
'Sources tell us she was murdered by a contract killer called the Piper,' Tim said.
Dolan looked shocked, his Adam's apple vibrating.
Bear said, 'But what we're more interested in is who hired the Piper.'
'And?' Dolan said.
'Tess was pregnant,' Tim said, 'with Chase's child.' He eyed Dean. 'That's a start, though I'm sure there's more to the story.'
Dolan sank back in the chair as if he'd lost all strength. 'Chase's? You have proof of this?'
'Of course not. Can't do a DNA analysis on cinders, now, can you?' Dean's tone never wavered, but he tugged a handkerchief from his pocket, fluffed it out, and dabbed his forehead. 'Now, if you don't mind, I have a son to put into the ground and a presentation to finish for him.' He tapped a button on his desk, and the door opened, the executives shuffling in. Briefcase lids snapped up and computers chimed back to life, but no one spoke.
Bear walked out, but Tim lingered a moment, noting the contrast between Dean's reengagement and Dolan's near-catatonic repose.
Dean and his team were back in the swing by the time he slipped out.
Chapter 59
Other kids ran and squealed with after-school exertion, but Sam slumped in the swing, his jaundiced face lax with exhaustion. The swings on either side of him were empty, the only unoccupied pieces of playground equipment in the whole park. The sole trail of footprints across the sand pit was his own.
It took two tries for his hoarse voice to grow loud enough for Kaitlin to hear him over the clanking of the seesaws: 'Push me.'
She rose from the bench and headed toward him, dodging a jump-rope threesome and a swirl of kids hanging from the merry-go-round. Her waitstaff vest was unbuttoned, her dress sleeves cuffed. Though it was just past four, a blanket of clouds blotted the sky, a premature dusk that left their house, a mere block away, blended into gray.
Kaitlin reached Sam and gave him a soft push, getting him going again. 'You ready to go home?'
'Ten more minutes.'
'We gotta get dinner going.'
Together they said, 'I'm not hungry.' She laughed, and he managed a smile.
Dylan threaded through the playground on his dirt bike. The other kids quieted a bit, noting the older boy's presence. He was only eleven, but thick like a young teenager, and his fake toughness was palpable, precocious.
'What's a matter, Piss-Eyes?' Dylan shouted. 'Can't pump yourself?'
Sam said softly, 'Okay. Let's go home.'
Dylan popped a wheelie, then rose up, shoving down on the pedals, the bike jerking side to side as he burst from the park. He got about ten yards down the street when a form melted from the sidewalk bushes, stepping in front of him and grabbing his handlebars so he slid forward, racking his nuts on the high bar.
'Ow! What the hell!'
'You're gonna leave that kid alone.'
The boy yanked his handlebars back, but they didn't budge in Walker's hands. 'You're a grown-up. What are you gonna do?'
Walker leaned forward over the grips, and here the kid's eyes flickered. 'I'm gonna hunt you down, in your bed, while you sleep, and cut out your fuckin' heart. That's what I'm gonna do.'
He released the handlebars, and the kid jerked back in sudden recoil, tangling in his bike. He scrambled up, running and dragging his bike beside him until he could swing a leg over the seat and pedal furiously away.
Walker continued toward the park's entrance. Kaitlin and Sam stepped through the gate. Sam looked weak, sagging against her side. A noticeable deterioration even from three days ago, when Walker had first seen him at the house.
Walker started toward them, but Sam just stared at him blankly, then looked away. Kaitlin stiffened. Walker stepped to the fence, putting a parked ice cream truck between him and the street. 'What?'
Sam spoke quietly and with impressive anger. 'You don't care about anything.'
Walker said, 'That's the first smart thing you've said.'
'Like my life doesn't suck enough already.'
Walker looked at him, feeling a grind deep in his chest. 'Guess what you win when you complain?' He held up his hand, fingers and thumb curled to shape a zero.
Sam said, 'Screw you,' and sulked off toward home.
Kaitlin called after him, 'I'll be there in a minute, Sammy.' The lightness at her eyes faded when she turned back to Walker. 'You told him that he'd get his gene if he helped you? How could you promise him that?'
'I didn't know what to say.'
'Yeah, you sure didn't.' She crossed her arms, locking down a shudder. 'Why are you here?' She nodded at his hesitation, her suspicions confirmed. 'You need help.'
'Never mind.'
'Gladly. We don't want to see you again.'
He watched her walk off. She jogged a few steps to catch up to Sam, then slung an arm across his shoulder. The kid was walking slowly, like a windup toy winding down.
Walker strode back to the parallel street where he'd parked the Accord-his home for the time being. When he set his elbow on the console, it struck the microcassette recorder, turning it on.
Dean's voice said, 'Our guns are bigger. And our leverage better.'
The odd ache in Walker's chest returned. It wasn't until he'd hit the freeway and picked up speed that he registered it might not be anger.
Chapter 60
Tim nosed out from behind a moving van and floored it, ignoring Bear, who crossed himself elaborately. Tim leaned forward, speaking loudly into the Nextel speaker-mounted on his dash. 'Why don't we have a full rundown on Pierce Jameson?'
Guerrera, from the command post, sounded irritated. 'We do.'
'Not thorough enough.'
'I told you, he's clean now.'
